


The beautiful creature that I am...

by Michael1214



Category: Captain America, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Returns, Established Relationship, Lube, M/M, Masturbation, Shameless Smut, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-03-09 12:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3249446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Michael1214/pseuds/Michael1214
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just...it's all smut.  I'm sorry.  </p>
<p>Bucky sends Steve a video while he's away on a mission.</p>
<p>Just to show him how much he misses him...</p>
<p>(It's exactly what you're thinking.)</p>
<p>(I wrote this as a funny little thing for a friend that I've got an RP going with - pegasids - and I thought well...why not gift it here too.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pegasids (pegasids)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pegasids/gifts).



_To: Capt. Steven G. Rogers <TeamAmericaFuckyeah01@stark.com>_  
 _From: Sergent James B. Barnes <Capsicle#2@stark.com>_  
 _Subject: NSFW_  
  
_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_  
  
_I miss you..._  
  
_Dare you to find out how much. *winky face*_

_[The video is freeze-framed on Bucky's sleepy face, on the screen. All Steve has to do is hit play.]_

"Is it rolling, Jarvis?"

"Yes Sergeant Barnes." The AI answers dutifully.

Bucky shifts a little on the bed, his eyes carefully avoiding the camera as shyness creeps up on him, a soft flush spreading across his cheeks. He seems to take a moment before he squares his shoulders and tilts his head up to look at the camera.

Lust burns in the gray depths of his eyes, a slow grin turning his lips up at the corners.

"Hyia Stevie." he croons at the camera, still looking a little nervous, biting at his bottom lip. He's dressed in a baggy SHIELD sweatshirt and a pair of boxers, brown hair dishelved around his face, clean locks framing his face in a way that couldn't be anything except natural. "Remember when I dragged you into that porn store and we bought that 'Captain America' vibrator thats supposed to be as good as the real thing?" He paused to stare at the screen intently for a moment, pupils blown.

"Well, I figured now was as good a time as any to find out just how close it is to the real thing..." he trailed off slowly, reaching somewhere off screen to pull the box with the vibrator in it, and a bottle of lube.He dropped them on the bed, right next to the pillow where Steve would lay his head when he got back from his current mission.

Without waiting, he started pulling his clothes off, slipping off the too big sweatshirt and stripping his boxers off slowly. Already hard, it was obvious he was getting off on just the idea of Steve watching this somewhere, maybe even jerking off to it. Once he was completely naked, he took a moment to get comfortable again, settling down with his back against the headboard, his lower back supported by every pillow in their suite.

A drop of pre-come beaded at the tip of his aching erection and once it was fat enough, it began to roll down his shaft. Buckys hands moved slowly, starting at his neck and mapping the flesh all the way down to his nipples, where he brushed the tips of his fingers across the hardened buds, shuddering. "Fuck baby...I miss your hands all over me." he whispered, flesh and metal sliding farther down to brush against the trail of hair that led to his pubic hair, trimmed and neat. His metal hand fisted around the bottom of his shaft and stroked upward slowly, his head falling back with a low moan. "I miss the bruises and the shock of your tongue sucking love bites..." he breathed, his mouth having dropped open into a soft, breathless moan.

Slowly, his eyes opened, glazed and dark, he focused on the camera, his breathing catching. "I didn't turn on the feed just so you could watch me jack off, Punk...Well, okay, maybe I did." he teased, squirting a little of the lube he'd set on the bed into his metal hand, carefully slicking up his metal digits. With his eyes still locked on the camera, he spread his legs open and bared himself for Steve to see. The camera either zoomed in, or he moved closer to the screen, but there, held tightly in place by the slightly red, stretched ring of muscle was a plug. Designed to hold him open, like a...pre-prep for Steve, because he knew that Steve didn't want to hurt him, it's keeping him nice and stretched out. His flesh hand comes into view, and he taps it lightly, body moving as he arched and let out a positively filthy sound, wrecked and wanton.

After a moment, he does it again and produces the same reaction, his legs shuddering just a little. Slowly, his index finger caught on the small hook that allows him to begin pulling it out. And inch by glorious inch, the thing is pulled free of his body, his poor pucker stretched further and further as it thickens the more he pulls out, before narrowing to the slightly rounded tip. Low whimpers, helpless and aroused fill the air as the camera focuses again, and he finally slides the thing free of himself. He's not gaping open by any means, but he's certainly loose now, his asshole fluttering softly as his body clenched around nothing.

"I've had that in since this morning..." he admits quietly, his shiny fingers making an appearance now and the camera zooms out and the rest of him becomes visible. Metal digits circle around the stretched entrance into his body and he moaned low and soft at the teasing sensation of being so loose. "Fuck baby, I'm so loose, bet you could just slip right inside of me. Just slick your cock up and fuck right into me..." he slurred softly at the camera. When he looks at it, his eyes are unfocused and he's clearly too lost in moment to do anything more than continue it.

His fingers finally slipped into his body, his eyes closing as the smooth plates slide against velvety walls. And it's like he can't help himself, after the first time he brushed against his prostate, he started fucking his fingers into him ruthlessly. Sinfully red lips fall open and he's moaning wantonly, practically shouting with the way his fingers ghost along his prostate and he's able to all but milk himself. His cock bobbed obscenely, bright red at the tip, that thick vein at the underside throbbing angrily.

Like before though, he stops what he's doing and pulls his fingers free, dazed eyes following the path of his hands as they reach towards the box with the vibrator in it. "Let's see just how easy it would be to slide you inside of me..." he breathed, opening the box gingerly. He pulled the vibrator from the box. Beautifully chic, with no sign of bumps or ridges along the shaft of it. Red, white and blue with a star on the front, he takes a moment to admire it, running his fingers along the smooth silicone, a warm hum leaving him. "Well, they got the color, size, and texture all wrong. So far I'm not impressed." he teased, shooting the camera a cocky, teasing smirk.

With little ceremony, he coated the phallus in lube, making sure it was good and slick so he wouldn't end up hurting himself. Like before--when he'd pulled the plug out--the camera zoomed in a little, though not enough to block out his face, or the stretch of his body on their bed. Slowly, he fit the tip of it to his stretched hole and pushed a little. His body accepted it, and stretched obligingly around it, a soft whimper parting his lips again, his eyes falling closed. "Fuck Stevie..." he murmured, biting at his bottom lip again. Not nervous this time, turned on. Aroused. He pushed the vibrator into him further, until he felt like he was so full he might split in two. It still wasn't as good as Steve...it wasn't hot like Steve was. It didn't pulsate inside of him like Steve did when he clenched down.

His middle finger flicked along the front side of it until he discovered the switch, which he promptly pressed, flicking it on to the lowest setting. It hummed very softly, muted because Bucky's body absorbed the shock of it. His legs immediately tensed, and his hips rocked up helplessly, thrusting against nothing, hopelessly seeking friction. His cock throbbed against his belly, another ooze of pre-come seeping from the slit at the head. "Fuck...s'n-s'not as good as you, Stevie...but fuck...feels good." he moaned, shuffling around slowly until he was on his knees in front of the camera. The vibrator wasn't visible anymore, but he was facing the camera now, and his cock bobbed again, flushed and visibly aching.

"Mm...was gonna try...and go up to the highest setting...oh god.." his hips jerked again, his metal hand sliding around his cock, still wet with lube and making his slide through his fist easy and pleasurable. Slowly, he began rocking his hips, fucking himself into his hand. His flesh hand disappeared behind him to hold the vibrator still inside of him, keeping it from sliding out. He hit the switch to take it to the medium setting. Like when he'd turned it on, his hips thrusted uncoordinated into his hand, fingers tightening around the shaft. "But I-I dunno if I'mma ma-make it that far..." he groaned, his lips bitten red and swollen, his chest and cheeks flushed red with desire. God, how he wished Steve was here to fuck him or to actually watch him do this.

"Miss you so fuckin' much, Stevie. Can't wait til you get home...gonna bend over the kitchen counter for you, let you fuck me real good..." he moaned, licking his lips and holding "eyes" with the camera. "Love you...GOD, I miss you.." he whimpered softly, his breathing getting harsher the closer to his orgasm he got. Slowly, he flicked the switch for the highest setting.

He let out a strangled yelp, his hand giving four good, painfully jerky tugs of his erection before he was coming. White splattered up across his chest, in five, pulsating strands, his body convulsing lightly. "Steeeeve..." he whimpered, his breathing coming in short gasps, eyes falling closed. With his jerky hands--because the vibrator was still vibrating away inside of him, keeping him oversensitive and uncoordinated--he pulled the vibrator free, flicked it off and collapsed back onto the bed with a huff.After a moment, he opened his eyes and began scooping up the splatters of his come on his chest with his hand. And then, without missing a beat, he met the camera with his eyes again, a teasing smirk pulling at his lips, confident and cocky, ruined only by how flushed and fucked out he looked. And then he started licking it off his fingers and hand, cleaning himself up effectively, all while holding the camera in his focus, tongue moving obscenely across his fingers.

"Well Stevie..." he purred in a low, husky tone, fluttering long eyelashes at him. "I hope you know that I meant what I said. I really do miss you. A lot. And I love you almost as much as I miss you. Come back in one piece." he breathed, his eyes softening and clearing a little. It really was hell sleeping in this bed alone. "Til the end of the line, right, Stevie?" he ask, like the camera was going to somehow answer him. "Yeah, yeah. I know it's not a Skype call, and it's just a video...don't start. Be smart Rogers, don't put yourself in any dangerous positions." he gave him a threatening look and then cracked a smile. Bashfully, he blew the camera a kiss and the video stopped on his sleepy face again, frozen there on the screen.

_Hope you don't get into trouble for this._

_Love you,_   
_B_


	2. Between a rock and a hard place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost a full two days before he's able to slip into the closet of the room he's sharing with Sam, literally in the middle of the day, and hunker down with a pair of earphones and his tablet to watch the video. He puts his back to the wall of the closet and settles down between a safe (why is there even one in here?) and Sams suitcase, his knees pulled up into his chest, facing the door. Because if Sam wakes up, he doesn't want his friend to know what he's doing. And maybe he's a little possessive of Bucky. If he knows his boyfriend--and he does--this video is bound to be intimate it some way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS!
> 
> Seriously, I can't even deal with how many people have left kudos on this fic. 
> 
> Here is the much anticipated second chapter of The Beautiful creature that I am...
> 
> For those of you who were wondering where that title came from: I totally jacked it from the person that I've written this fic for. One night before bed, a comment was made about a beautiful creature and leaving notes in inboxes, and well, I just couldn't resist. This wasn't supposed to turn out to be like this, but well...HERE IT IS. lol
> 
> I'm truly blessed to have so many people see this and I hope you guys really, really, really enjoy reading this second chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was a struggle to get out at some times, but that's mostly because I don't usually play Steve in roleplay. I typically play Bucky. 
> 
> Also, I hope this chapter is as good as the first one.
> 
> THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, SO MUCH. READERS REALLY ARE THE BEST REASON TO WRITE MORE.  
> Also, on a side note, none of these chapters are beta'd, so all the mistakes are mine (I CLAIM THEM) and I'm sorry.
> 
> Kudos and comments are absolutely adored.

The mission is taking too long. There's nothing else to be said about it. He hates being away from Bucky for so long, and he's worried.

Worried that he's not eating properly.

Worried that he's not sleeping properly.

Worried that he's not showering like he's supposed to.

He knows it's silly. He shouldn't worry so much. Bucky is a big boy. A big boy whose been out of Hydras clutches for a total of nine months. He's only been back home for four of them. It doesn't seem possible that it's only been nine months, when he thinks back though, because for all intents and purposes, he's doing really well. The therapists aren't as supportive as he thought they would be though. They've both heard a lot about how "dependent" they are on each other--particularly Bucky. Bucky, who treats sex like it's a date. Not that Steve really minds, because they've got a lot of time to make up for, but he wants his lover to be healthy and happy. Bucky says that the only time he feels like he's really Bucky Barnes, is when Steve is balls deep inside of him, and Steve--well...he's always been happy to please. Especially Bucky.

So Steve had returned to missions much sooner than he'd planned on--if he was planning on it at all. Because missions give them "space". It gives Bucky a chance to spend time with other people without Steves influence, and it allows them to put space there. To take a step back and decide where to go from there, but together. They do everything together now, if possible.

But this mission...

It's taking too long. He's been gone for what seems like an eternity--and that's a really long time for a guy who spent seventy years in the ice, most of which he was awake for. (He still can't stand to willingly submerge himself in cold water) Even if it has only been a week...

It's almost a full two days before he's able to slip into the closet of the room he's sharing with Sam, literally in the middle of the day, and hunker down with a pair of earphones and his tablet to watch the video. He puts his back to the wall of the closet and settles down between a safe (why is there even one in here?) and Sams suitcase, his knees pulled up into his chest, facing the door. Because if Sam wakes up, he doesn't want his friend to know what he's doing. And maybe he's a little possessive of Bucky. If he knows his boyfriend--and he does--this video is bound to be intimate it some way.

He closes the closet door and pulls up his email.

And he plays the video.

To Steve, Bucky draped in that sweatshirt is the sweetest thing he's ever seen. It actually brings tears to his eyes, seeing Bucky right now. Because he's been away for so long, so he misses him. He refuses to dwell on it for too long, because Bucky is alive and he's beautiful. His voice is sweet and sinful, and in the back of his mind, he's wondering how he was ever supposed to live in a world that didn't have Bucky Barnes.

He actually finds himself nodding along to answer Buckys question, because yes, he does remember Bucky dragging him into that porn store. He remembers the Captain America vibrating dildo, and he remembers turning beet red at the insinuation that it might be bigger than he was. He forces himself not to whimper when Bucky pulls the box on screen with lube and instead bites his bottom lip. A habit he can thank Bucky for.

He ignores the eager twitch of his cock when Bucky starts taking his clothes off, and he pauses the video--just so he can take a look at Bucky naked. Fuck, not only is he beautiful, but he's filled out a little since the last time Steve saw him. This is good, this means that he's sticking to his schedule and eating when he's supposed to. And just look at him...the way muscle lays under the skin, the way his back is arched, the curve of his dick. Hard. For him.

Well, Bucky wasn't the only one.

He plays the video again, his hand sliding down to the front of his tactical pants where his cock pressed insistently against the firm material, the heel of his hand rubbing across that hardness just one time while he watches Bucky. While he takes in no particular part of him and all of him at the same time.

He's fully hard and completely lost when Bucky settles back down and begins teasing his skin. Steve wishes those hands were his. Wishes that he was there to give Bucky what he wants, to suck bruises into his skin, and taste every inch of him. He can almost taste him on his tongue now, if he concentrates really hard, but there's not really enough blood for his brain and his cock at the same time, so he lets it go. Focuses on Bucky.

He's caught. Enraptured by the way Bucky arches his body up, by the way he wriggles until Steve is staring at his favorite plug. Nestled right between his cheeks, sitting perfect where Steves cock wants to be. Slowly, he exhales a deep breath, acutely aware of the fact that Sam is sleeping on the other side of the closet door. He's resisting the urge to lick the screen--though barely. He's holding it up with one hand, so close to his face he can't focus on anything except Bucky. His other hand is still resting just on top of his cock through his pants, slight pressure, but nothing compared to what he needs to get off.

Buckys filthy moan almost evokes one from him too, because fuck that is just too much. He watches intently as Bucky twists the plug and begins pulling it out. It feels like his heart is trying to hammer out of his chest as the plug slides free and Bucky makes a comment about how loose he is. Steve bets he could just slip right into him too. His cock gives another throb that says it wouldn't object in the least. Fuck, if he keeps watching this, he might just make a mess in his pants. He's completely breathless by the time Bucky is done fucking himself with his fingers, Buckys charming Brooklyn drawl crooning in his ear.  He's breathing too hard and the hand that's resting on his pants moves, almost of it's own accord.  Sliding slowly down and then back up and he can feel the pre-come soaking into his underwear.  He's so hard it hurts.  
  
He feels very much like a horny teenager.    
  
As Bucky coats the vibrator, he shifts a little, leaning against the safe more than Sams dufflebag, unable to take his eyes off the screen of his tablet while his free hand carefully undoes the button on his tac pants and slides into his pants, fingers wrapping around his cock at the base and squeezing lightly.  The pressure is just barely enough to keep him from coming while Bucky examines the dildo and makes a comment about how wrong they got Captain Americas cock.  If he wasn't ready to lose his mind before, he's literally on the edge of tipping over to insanity by now.    
  
It feels like the video moves in slow motion.  It's the sound of that familiar, endearing nickname half moaned from Buckys lips that makes reality snap back into focus.  He has to squeeze the base of his cock again to keep from coming on the spot when Buckys hips thrust helplessly, his mouth falling open as a rush of air leaves his lungs.  His brunette fucks his fist in the video and his heart skips a beat, because he can't wait.  If this mission doesn't end soon, he might end it for them.  He knows how important taking Hydra down is, but at this moment, nothing is more important than the other half of his soul back in New York, sleeping and waking up alone.    
  
He fights back a whimper--and isn't entirely certain that he succeeds--as the video continues and he watches Bucky thrust and shift and moan and whimper, slurred words barely sinking into his consciousness.  It's beautiful.  It's sinful.  
  
He's helpless to keep a groan from slipping through his parted, dry lips, as Bucky slurs about bending over the kitchen counter, and if he closes his eyes he can imagine that, but he can't.  He's a man possessed, hypnotized by the way Bucky moves.  The thrust of his hips, the color of his lips, the way his whole body gives into the experience of pleasure, it's fascinating.  Not only as Buckys lover, but as an artist.  It literally makes his fingers twitch with the itch to draw, to capture these moments on paper.  Paper only for him.    
  
He's greedy.  He knows he is.  Bucky is his own person, can do and think and say and feel however he wants, however he sees fit, but he still chooses to give this part of himself to Steve.  There are billions of people in this new world they live in, but Bucky still chooses Steve Rogers.  Just like he says...til the end of the line.  
  
His right hand is still around the base of his cock, attempting to alleviate some of the ache that's building in his abdomen, slowly sliding up and down his length, but it's not enough.  It won't be enough until he's back home, with Bucky bent over the kitchen counter--just like he promised--and he's buried deep inside of him, completely and totally lost in the sensation that he can't tell where Bucky ends and he begins.  Two halves of one person, coming together to be whole.  This ache in his groin, the insistent need is only made worse when Bucky comes and then proceeds to lick his fingers clean.  
  
He's just getting to the part where Bucky is telling him to be safe, and he's making fun of himself the way Steve does when they get on skype calls when the closet door slides open, and he comes face to knees with Sam Wilson.    
  
"Steve, what are you--OH COM'ON MAN." and he practically stumbles backwards, away from the closet, which is still half open.  
  
For a moment, Steve is completely dumbfounded.  He's been caught, literally with his hand in his pants and Buckys video pulled up on his tablet.  Not that Sam can see the video--which just seems to make it worse for him--but oh GOD.  
  
He hadn't been planning on masturbating, and he technically wasn't (since his actual goal was just to get himself under control without coming) but he still blushes like he was.  Color floods his face, all the way down into his chest and he twitches his hand away from his groin, like it was something he just thought to do.  
  
"Sam!  It isn't what you--I wasn't--It was!"  he probably looks distressed, but his friend just shakes his head and holds his hand out.    
  
"The video from Bucky, huh?"  he asks, raising an eyebrow and pointedly not looking down at the front of Steves pants, which are open, but thankfully still up.  Sam can't see anything except where the material bunches and it's pretty obvious that he's desperately hard under the fireproof tactical pants.    
  
All Steve can do is nod his head, tablet still held in his other hand.    
  
"You're buying me a new duffle bag when we get back to the states."  he says, eyes glinting with what Steve can only assume is faint amusement and non-judgmental loathing.  "I don't care if you ARE Captain America, I'm not letting you put your dick all over my stuff and get away with it."  he laughs and then reaches out to close the closet door all the way, effectively leaving Steve in the darkness again, feigning privacy.  "And Natasha owes me fifty bucks too!"  he says, and Steve can hear the sounds of footsteps as Sam leaves the room.    
  
He's completely mortified as he does up the front of his pants--still hard and wanting, but no longer in need of something to alleviate that ache in his groin.  It isn't gone, by any means, but there's no way in hell he's going to masturbate now that his friend has some idea of what he might--or might not have--been doing in the closet.  Before he exits the closet though, he does take one moment to look at how Bucky signed the e-mail, another mortified sigh leaving him.    
  
In trouble...oh no, Bucky's the one whose gonna be in trouble when he gets home...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whose ready for chapter 3?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry if it's horrible. 
> 
> I hope it's not.


End file.
